


Notebook

by CecilsUnstoppableGayness



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: M/M, Some Yearning, This started as a joke and then my friends said it was good, i don’t know how to use tags lmao, it’s soft, really soft, so just trust me, this has some cursing but other than that it’s innocent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24076588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CecilsUnstoppableGayness/pseuds/CecilsUnstoppableGayness
Summary: Tiergan is gay. *drops mic and leaves*
Relationships: Leto/Tiergan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. The Drawing

Prentice thinks I’m crazy. He told me so when I called him after dinner to tell him I wasn’t coming home again. This time I didn’t contradict him. I don’t know why I’m doing this myself. He knocked on my office my door again, and I let him in, and here I am. It is three in the morning. We’ve been up since midnight. He always comes at midnight. He does his best thinking then. He’s leaned over his desk, pushing his pitch-dark hair behind his ear and tapping the end of his pen against the table. He’s got the notebook open in front of him. He’s been writing in it since I arrived. I don’t understand a smidge of what he puts in there, all letters and lines separating them and numbers in strings. I asked him what it was about, and he told me he’d explain later. I understand bits of it, though. Livvy tries to explain sometimes. She’ll point to sections of the letters and tell me about genetic sequencing and protein patterns and deviance from control, but none of that means a thing to me. I didn’t take science in Elite, I took history and leadership. I didn’t want to join the nobility, of course, but I was enamored of the teacher. Leto picked me for his class upon my graduation from the normal levels, but I was too shy then, so I rode on Prentice’s coattails and mentored for a while. I saw him then too, every day he’d shoot me a smile as he stole a bite at midday, or before going home late at night, once the sun had set and the school was traced delicately in blue-purple light from the foxfire. I always waited at the corner and watched him go. The neon light matched his eyes exactly. Eventually Prentice told me he was done watching me pine, and he was getting married, so I needed to do something. I took the night classes at Foxfire, the ones for criminals and rebels and artists that had fallen through the first time around. The worst types of people, Alden told me, (I pretended we were friends back then), all seated in slanted rows in the lecture hall Leto had claimed before we were all born. It was beautiful. I spent hours leaned over books, letting his starlight voice pour over my mind and take the world apart. Every facet of every idea was cut and examined, and so often new light shone that I had never seen. I could tell for the others the spell lifted in daylight, but never for me. I can hear him as I’m writing this. Question it all, he says, his voice the brush of flower petals against my mind. Choose carefully what you believe. I can conjure his voice almost as easily as I can draw up his face in my mind. He’s left such a mark on me.  
Prentice knew I was gone before I did. He told me he recognized the look in my eyes. He didn’t say that I used to look at him like that, but I knew he thought it. Prentice is a patient friend, and I am a mess around boys. He is also an excellent wingman. He brought me to the Masquerade with him, and went so far as to recommend me to Livvy, so that I’d be dragged through the party to the drawing room where Leto spent his time. I say dragged as if I came unwillingly. I did not. Prentice knew I had fallen when I turned the corner and saw him standing on the balcony. His hair was unbound. I remember because that was the first time I had seen it unaltered; he slicks it back for work. He told me to sit in one of the silk armchairs in the drawing room, and dismissed the others. I remember so clearly how he turned to look at me, leaning on the balcony railing. He looked like a portrait standing there with thick gold curtains swishing gently in the evening breeze. That was the first night I didn’t come home when Prentice called me. He told me about his world, the one he was going to create for us. I want it so badly.  
He says that’s what he’s working on in that notebook. His new world. He says she’s going to save the world. I think she’s going to save him. For so long he’s been alone with his beautiful mind, every idea echoed back to him in silence. I do my best to fill the space; that’s why I always let him in, but he needs her. She’s his passion. I hadn’t seen love until I saw how he described her. I hadn’t felt love until he touched my cheek, sun rising behind him wrapping him in pure white warm, and told me he was glad I had found him. I told him it was a pleasure beyond what I can express. His smile made the sun lose significance.  
So here I am, a gay telepathic disaster, awake at 3:30 in the morning, writing a journal like I’m a teenager because Leto told me today that he works better if I’m working too. Prentice thought it wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had to join an illegal cult because the leader is beautiful. I ignored him. But that’s not the only reason I am here. Leto showed me all the places the world is broken, and I want to see them fixed. And he’ll fix them, he and his girl. I’m staring at him again. I used to be shy about it, but he said he didn’t mind so now I stare all the time. His hair has fallen out from behind his ear again, a curtain concealing his indigo eyes. There are stars in those eyes. Stars in his eyes, stars on his tongue, he is made of nighttime. He suddenly draws himself up, tipping his head back so that his hair falls away and the candlelight of the office flickers gold across him. He is looking at me intently now, half leaned back in his chair.  
“Tiergan,” he says, “I can see her so clearly. Every exquisite detail, it’s all there.”  
“I can’t wait to meet her.” I say, softly. He is giving me that smile again, sadness behind it, but hope in front.  
“You’ll love her.” He says.  
“I know I will.” I say. Because I love you.

I’ve moved out of Prentice’s house. It was never officially stated; I never said goodbye or thank you, but before long it was Duskrim, Leto’s estate, that I went back to to shower after a late night in our office. It is our office now; my leather armchair is diagonally facing the desk where he always sits. I’m wearing a wine red tunic that he bought me, and a ring in my hair. I’m growing it out, because he told me he liked it longer. It reaches my shoulders now. He complemented it this morning. He said he hadn’t noticed how particularly the sun made it glow until I wore it down. I am positive I would have fainted dead away if I wasn’t already sitting down. As it was I buried my head in the book I was reading for fear he’d see how red my face was. I’m reading The Picture of Dorian Grey. I was suspicious when I saw his face as he handed it to me, and now I’m definitely flustered. For one thing, the protagonist looks just like me. He’s definitely involved with his dark haired companion, too. I wonder what he’s saying to me. Nevertheless, it’s a wonderfully written book and I am quite wrapped up in it. I spend most of my evenings reading it. Leto is always out till late. He doesn’t bring me with him, and I haven’t gotten up the courage to ask to go, but he comes back every evening at ten to my office and starts working. This evening, though, instead of getting out the notebook, he pulled out a blank piece of paper. I put my book down and watched him. His delicate, sharp face was tipped forward, and his eyes were focused with a force I had not seen before. As I leaned forward, he gently touched his pen to the ink. It is a glass pen, with separate ink, but he refills it telekinetically. His control is astounding. Sometimes when he isn’t watching I practice tipping my own metal pen with ink, swirling it delicately into place. I can’t ever do it without dripping, but I’ve gotten much better.  
When he focuses himself, you can touch the air around his head. It hums against my skin. Prentice can’t stand it, and neither can Livvy, but I adore the feeling. It is yet to be seen if that is because I am a telepath too or because I am in love with him. Maybe it’s both. He’s doing it now, humming. And he’s drawing. I can’t see what it is really, but I can see his hands moving. Leto’s hands are delicate and slender, and they move like waves, rolling on and off the paper in fluid spirals. He has become less careful with his ink and the edges of his fingers are stained dark. I swear I wasn’t this poetic just a couple months ago. It must be that damn novel.  
Leto’s friends have started to be very kind to me. I think he told them to, but I also think they like me so it’s alright. I was afraid they’d resent me because I rose to power so quickly. After my initial interview at the Masquerade, he brought me to Duskrim for dinner several times. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to him. I’m usually so anxious around new people, but talking to him was so easy. I felt myself laughing before I knew what was going on. I think it’s his hum that sets me at ease. He offered me a place on his ‘collective’, which is a sort of anti-counsel. There’s a lot more paperwork and organizing than I expected from a radical mafia, but I do get to sit next to him at meetings now. I also get a say on his Project. I have a lot more to say than I thought I would. I don’t know anything about manipulative coherency or DNA coupling but I do know the approximate maximum range of a telepath throughout their stages of development. This morning when we were working with the others, Leto said I was an invaluable resource. Prentice, (who took science himself and so is allowed in as well), said that he always dreamed I’d grow up to be a resource. I hit him with my journal.  
Prentice attributes my rise to power to my flattery of the leader, which I resent, and Livvy says it’s my willingness to try things. I’ll try anything that he tells me to, so she isn’t wrong. All the same, I’m having a wonderful time. It’s so freeing to be taking action in some way, even if it is small. For the first time in my life it feels like I’m going somewhere.  
Leto stopped drawing at some point during that last paragraph. He’s tipped back in his chair, his severely cut leather boots balanced on the edge of the desk. He’s dropped his pen, it’s hanging next to his hand, ink sliding off it in a series of pearly bubbles. I can’t tell if he’s looking at me or at something in his head. I keep pausing my writing to stare.  
“What are you looking at with such awe, Tierg?”  
You.  
“Your control with the ink. You forgot about it and it didn’t fall. I’m impressed.”  
“You write as you think, Tiergan. It isn’t much different.”  
I have been moving my pen with my mind, for practice, but it’s far sloppier than I’d like, and the liquid is much harder to control.  
“I could show you, if you’d like.”  
I would like.  
“Thank you.”  
He beckons me with a hand, then kicks his boots down and stands up. He’s a full head taller than I am, and I have to tip my head back to look in his eyes. He moves over to me, until he’s easily within arm’s reach. His hum is overwhelming. It’s turned into a melody with him this close, haunting and delicate. His eyes are an entire galaxy of blue, and I swear they have gold flecks in them. As I meet his gaze the melody grows louder and more lilting.  
“What is that...” I trail off.  
“That?”  
“That music.... it’s beautiful. I can’t, can’t describe...” I should stop talking.  
He is laughing at me. The corners of his eyes crinkle, cracking his eyeliner slightly.  
“You’re wearing eyeliner.” Oh, I did not mean to say that.  
“You got a problem?” He’s teasing for sure, but I still apologize.  
“No need for all that. I didn’t mean it.” He pauses. “What can I say? I like to feel pretty.”  
“It looks...” Shit. Now I need to finish that in a not embarrassing way. “Good.”  
“I hope you’re more descriptive than that in your writing, my friend.” Teasing again. I’ve decided I quite enjoy his teasing. And I feel bolder, too.  
“Radiant, then.”  
He’s blushing. I’m sure I am too.  
“Better.” He says. “A far more elegant word.”  
“Much more befitting of yourself, then.” What am I doing? Oscar Wilde is getting to my head.  
He’s blushing again, but in a pleased sort of way.  
“May I have the honor?” He asks. His hand is hovering next to my head. I need to focus on covering some of my more embarrassing thoughts, so I just gently brush my head against his fingers.  
I am frozen.  
His mind is an ecosystem on its own. Mountains bigger than both of us, deep and tangled jungles with brightly colored flowers. Rivers crash all around in molten silver, sliding away in thousands of directions. I can see the ink, caught in a stream, being tossed over and over in the torrent of his energy. No wonder it’s so easy for him. He’s doing a thousand other minute tasks as well; keeping his hair in place and making his cape hang straight and organizing the papers on his desk, and none of it takes any strength at all compared to the roaring waterfalls his head is filled with. I feel cool, the mist of his power is flecking my skin.  
*Hello*? I ask aloud. My voice echoes back in pitches like bells. *This is incredible.*  
I hope these notes are being covered properly.  
*Hello, Tiergan. Are you alright? I tend to flood people.* He sounds shy. I pour happiness into the river.  
*No, I’m fine. Just taking it all in.*  
He seems delighted by that. There’s a path through the jungle now. My footprints glow gold behind me.  
There’s a stone wall at the center of the jungle, the edge of a castle ruin. Leto is sitting on it. He’s dressed in white, a three piece suit with a long, flowing coat. His hair is fluttering gently in a breeze of his creation. He smiles at me and I pull myself up next to him. The sky above us is the galaxy of his eyes, but on the horizon, over a river so wide it fills the sky, there is a spectacular sunrise.  
*Where is that light coming from?*  
*You.*  
Oh.  
*Yes, you are rather shiny, aren’t you.*  
*It’s all so easy for you...*  
*It’ll get easier for you. The fact that you can talk like this... you are very powerful, Tiergan.*  
I’ve never thought of myself as powerful. The world is just a little louder for me than for the other telepaths I went to school with. Tasks came easier to me, shields never quite kept out all the noise, but I never complained. I haven’t been one to draw attention to myself. I wonder if Leto can see this.  
*I can see the idea of what you are thinking, but I’m not reading it completely. I’m not that rude.*  
*Thank you.*  
I must have sounded too relieved, because he says *Don’t you trust me, Tiergan?* his voice is teasing but there’s an edge to it. He wants me to trust him. The trees suddenly are shifting, angling their branches away from us.  
*No, I do.*  
The trees settle back into place.  
*You are powerful, Tiergan.* He says again. *They should have noticed at Foxfire how special you were, but telepathy mentors at Foxfire are useless. All except yourself, of course.* His laugh is thunder rolling across the galaxy sky. *You need a proper teacher.*  
*Will you teach me?* I ask. I hold my breath.  
*Thats rather the point of this, isn’t it?*  
My sunset shifts from its usual orange and gold to a vibrant pink. He nudges my arm and I turn to him, smiling. He keeps his hand on my arm as he stands.  
*I want you to take the ink from me. Show me how you do it.* I hesitate. *Don’t worry, I’ll help you.*  
I envision a river like his. Not as powerful or as fast moving, but a river of my own, golden and steady. Sure enough, a streak of the pink sunset flares out towards the ink, washing over it. Feeling his energy flood in around me is intoxicating, and I pretend I don’t miss the contact when it disappears. Sure enough, though, I’m holding the ink next to our heads.  
*See? Beautifully done.*  
His praise makes me dizzy.  
*You seem a little out of it...shall we stop for today?*  
I don’t want to stop, he hasn’t even really shown me anything, but he sees the refusal in my mind and gently points out how tired I am. And I am exhausted.  
*It takes a lot of strength, talking like this.* He says. *We’ll give it a rest and try more tomorrow. I have a feeling you’ll catch on quickly.*  
He winks at me mentally. The entire sky disappears for a second. I find myself giggling as I delicately step away along the path.  
The world is absurdly bright. I blink my eyes several times, trying to focus. I lift a hand to rub my eyes and run it into something. Fuck, I must’ve stepped closer to him while practicing. I’m right up against his chest, my head is tipped up so our noses are almost touching, and I’ve just run my hand into his shoulder. I mumble an apology and start to take a step back, but he catches my hand with his. I stop and smile at him. He brushes my hair back from my forehead with his free hand.  
“Thank you, Tiergan. I quite enjoyed that.”  
“Thank you. It’s incredible... I haven’t the words.”  
“Flattery.” He scoffs, but it fades into a laugh, and I laugh too. I’ve managed to rock forwards again so I’m right up next to him. Carefully, he tips his head forwards so our noses touch, just for a second. My laughter dies in my throat, and my entire face feels warm. He gently pulls away, and returns to his desk, not taking his eyes off me. I remain where I was, trying to regain control of my expressions. I take a deep breath, and return to my chair.  
“Do you want to see what I was drawing?” He asks me.  
“Yes. Show me.” I still sound a little breathless.  
He puts his notebook down on the table. In the center of the page is a sketch of a little girl, about ten, with radiant blonde curls and deep brown eyes. She has a delicate smile and her eyes look deep. Around her head is a halo of violet that drips out across the page. She looks so real. I glance up at Leto and he’s smiling at her so proudly.  
“Is that her?”  
“Yes.” The love in his voice is powerful. It radiates heat. I run my fingers carefully across the page, taking pains not to smudge the ink.  
“She’s lovely.”  
He doesn’t respond, but I can tell he’s pleased. He carefully folds it into the notebook and walks lazily over to the window. I’ve got a good office, a block over from the school. I used to come here to get away from Prentice. Leto is silhouetted by the late afternoon sky. He’s looking out over the city, surveying it as if it’s his kingdom. I drift over to him, leaning against the window frame and gazing out at such an angle that I can see him clearly. Out of the corner of my eye, The Picture of Dorian Grey teases me.  
“I’m starting to think this Oscar Wilde fellow doesn’t like ladies as much as he lets on.” I say.  
“Oh no, he does not.” He chuckles. “Rather the opposite, really.”  
“Oh?”  
“He was quite bold about it too. Got arrested, you know.”  
“I like his style.”  
“You want to get arrested for kissing a boy?” He’s joking, because he thinks I am. I’m not.  
“I mean...”  
Neither of us are looking at each other. I’m still quaking in shock at my own boldness. I just admitted to the man I’m in love with that I wanted to kiss him. Basically. Not in so many words, but the message was there. Why did I do that? I’m losing control, my pen is shaking. I take deep breaths and prepare myself for Leto’s reaction.  
“I’m thinking of having a party.”  
What.  
“Tiergan?”  
“Hm?”  
“I’m going to throw a party, and I’m going to use it to show you off to my old friends. They haven’t met you yet, and they need to. Does that sound alright?”  
“Y-yes... it sounds fine.”  
Is he really not going to say anything?  
“After all, you can’t have a scandalous kiss without a lot of people there to see you, right?”  
He’s holding my hand. I can’t think. Is this real? Is he real? 

He kissed my hand. His lips brushed against my knuckles for a long moment, and then he took them away. I sat down in my chair, feeling faint. It has taken me some time to regain enough functions to write.  
He has is back turned to me as he gathers his papers. I should put my coat on. We’ll be going home in a minute, and Prentice hailed me twice. I wonder what he’ll think of Leto’s party?


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh Boy almighty this is long and way sadder than I remembered. It’s happy in the end. Everyone is a gay mess tho

I hate tailors. I’ve never felt the need to dress fancily, and the most common fashions just make you look like a pushover anyways, so I always just borrowed clothes from Prentice. Increasingly I’ve been wearing what Leto buys for me, but I’ve never actually gone shopping before. Of course Leto gets his clothes from some ridiculously famous tailor. I told Cyrah where we were going and she screamed. Prentice claimed that this was practically a date, and I’m trying not to think about that as I sit on the massive round chair at the center of the boutique. Crystal encrusts the ceiling and there are curtains everywhere, in different shades of purple. Each wall is a mirror, so I am writing to distract myself. There is a balcony directly in front of me, and I can hear him talking to the man working here. Leto said that his name was Damien and that he was the best there was. ‘And you must have the best, Tiergan.’ He dresses exquisitely himself, sharply cut jackets and capes with crystal designs on them and vests with elaborate embroidery. Fripperies like that suit him, he looks natural dripping in diamonds. I do not, however, although he seems to believe otherwise. I feel entirely out of place amongst the silk and the jewels. I am tempted to tell Leto I want to go home, but it would disappoint him and so I am still here. Besides, I’ll feel absolutely stupid at the party if I don’t wear something ludicrous.   
Leto comes sweeping down the stairs with Damien on his heels. He’s holding something with far more jewels than I would like, but in a pleasant shade of peacock blue.   
“Here, Tiergan, is your party outfit. I know you aren’t one for fancy things, so I tried to restrain myself.” He chuckles, and holds it out triumphantly. “Try it! And while you do that, I’ll try my outfit for the party too.” He gives me a shy smile. “I do hope you like it. It will look so smashing on you.” He lingers, beaming, for a moment, before whirling away on his heels. Damien follows patiently, and the door clicks shut behind them. The suit is actually rather tasteful. The shirt is black silk, opalescent but rather plain. The vest is a dark, gorgeous peacock blue that shimmers purple in the light. It has embroidery all across it in the same color as the cloth that looks like feathers. The jacket starts out black by the sleeves and tails, and fades into the same blue as the vest across the back. The pants are the same black silk as the shirt. It is shiny, but understated. Leto and his impeccable taste have won me over once more.   
The shirt and pants fit perfectly. I had a bit of trouble with the buttons on the vest; they’re cloth and so slippery, but it sits neatly on top of the shirt. I slid the coat over top, and it hangs just right on my shoulders. It really is an incredible suit. There’s just all these gold bits. Chains and gems in strands of different sizes, and I don’t have any idea what to do with them. I can’t even figure out the clasp of the cape, which is pitch black with blue embroidery to match the vest. So I’m waiting for Leto to come back. In the meantime, I’m trying to tie my hair back in a somewhat reasonable fashion so that it won’t take away from my exquisite clothing. It falls just past my shoulders now, and I’ve just wrangled it into a sort of bun at the base of my head. I’ll make sure to tie it for real later. Maybe some of this gold goes in my hair, I don’t know.  
The door swings open smoothly and he steps in. I don’t know if I’m still alive. I’ve definitely stopped breathing, and I won’t start again for the foreseeable future.   
Leto is dressed in a suit of pure white. His vest is sculpted with golden filigree, and the inside of his coat, which is unevenly cut, the lower side brushing against the back of his knee. His hair is swept up in a crown of gold chain, which braids itself into a collar covering his pure white cape. Diamonds are splattered across it so that he glitters when he walks. I think he said my name but I can’t think so it could’ve been ‘Damien’ for all I know.  
He’s nudging my shoulder. He was talking to me.   
“Tiergan?”  
“Hi! Yeah... you look... really stunning. I- I don’t have the words...” I stop talking. His hand is squeezing the back of my neck. He blushes, and the red on his face makes his skin glow like the rest of him. He gently pushes me back to arm’s length and looks me over.  
“So. Do you like it?”  
“Hm?”  
“The suit, Tiergan. Do you like it.”  
“You were right... it does look smashing.”  
He nudges my shoulder with his, delighted.   
“Only, I never wear clothes like this. I don’t understand...” I gesture vaguely at the cape and chains. He scrunches his nose in amusement.   
“I’ll help you, then. Hold still.”  
He gently turns me toward the nearest mirror. I’m watching in the glass and he’s carefully setting the cape on my shoulders, winding the chains around my shoulders twice and then settling them through the clasp. His hands keep brushing my neck. He taps and nudges and leans on me much more recently, but the gentle touches still make me shiver. There’s another length of chain left, but he sets it down again.  
“This one goes in your hair. Are you planning to wear it up?”  
“I... don’t know. What do you think?”  
“Braid it and pin it low, where it is now.”  
“I don’t know...” I can barely brush my own hair.  
“I’ll do it then.” He gives me another wonderful smile, and catches my eyes in the mirror. I nod slightly. He undoes my bun and carefully combs his fingers through my hair. It feels marvelous. I lean into his hands a little. He combs my hair out a lot more than he needs to, with absolutely no complaint on my part. Finally, he gently winds it into a tight braid, and then into a perfect spiral on the back of my head. He takes the chains and drapes them around the bun and clasps them right at the center of my forehead, on a black diamond.  
“There. Aren’t we lovely.”  
We are. I never knew I could look so good, and he’s unspeakably gorgeous.   
“Thank you for letting me do this, Tierg.” He says into my ear. He’s very close to my skin. I can smell his breath. He smells of lavender. His words make me shiver. “You really do look incredibly beautiful.” He sighs gently. “We’re beautiful together.”

Duskrim is gorgeous at night. It’s a massive, pure black gothic castle with balconies and arches and stained glass windows. The floors are all white and gold marble and elaborate woven rugs. All the furniture is oak and carved and lined with some dramatic shade of velvet. It is unbelievably huge. I’ve got my own drawing room with a balcony, as well as an airy bedroom with two walls of windows. I sleep on a fainting couch near the balcony, usually, since when we get home from the office, we stay up late talking and then collapse where we are. It is on that couch that I’m sitting now, very still so as not to muss my fancy clothing, looking out over the three terraces beneath me that fade into gnarly, twisting pine forests. There are gnomes hanging strings of tiny glass lanterns around the railings on each level. Duskrim will be glorious tonight. I’ve never been to a party this grand before. The Masquerade didn’t count, because I only talked to Leto, and because there is no proof of it happening. I’m a bit anxious, but I know that with him by my side I’ll have a wonderful night.

The sun is setting, and there are people everywhere. I’m catching my breath after a stream of introductions, seated right next to Leto on this pedestal at the top of the first ballroom. People passing remark on our beautiful clothing, ask how we know each other, say that they are delighted Leto has a close friend finally. ‘He’s always been so alone,’ they whisper to me. ‘It’s a wonder he doesn’t marry, with his looks. At least he has a companion now.’ I answer each with a vague affirmation of his beauty, a shrug and a smile. I know he hears them, I’m practically in his lap, but he simply smiles when I apologize for them. “People have always talked, Tierg. Now they’ll talk about something else.” I can’t say I enjoy the schmoozing and gossiping, the constant flood of questions about my family and my work and whether or not I have a girl in my life. It’s all worth it, however, to be this close to him in front of everyone. Right before they opened the gates, he pulled me to his side and put an arm around my waist. He whispered in my ear like he likes to that this was our night. We’d be together tonight. It’s been several hours and that arm hasn’t moved. I go where he goes. The only issue with this arrangement, (and a small issue it is,) is that I can’t eat anything because that would require going over to the table, and Leto is occupied with teasing Prentice and sipping his wine. I really am hungry, and the pastries that were just set out look amazing. I’ve decided that I can’t resist them anymore, so I squeeze his arm and slide away. He looks after me, and I stop at the table, pastry in hand, and smile at him. He winks, and blows me a kiss. I giggle into my pastry.   
*I’ll come over and get you in just a minute.* He promises. *I can’t possibly be without my Tiergan.*  
I don’t have anything coherent to say, but he feels my affection and returns it. I stand, giddy, eating my food and lost in thought. He consumes my mind so wholly, that I don’t even notice the ladies until the nearest one flicks my sleeve. I look up, startled.   
“Hello. Tiergan, isn’t it?” She has deep copper hair and pleasant lavender eyes. She’s wearing quite a lot of makeup, and her dress is quite low cut. I’m trying not to stare but I don’t know where to look.  
“It’s ok, you can look at me.” She says with a giggle. I give her a tense smile and force myself to look directly into her eyes.   
“Oh, you’re so stiff. Come now, we all know I’m pretty.”  
This is about the opposite of where I want to be. She taps my sleeve again, and, smiling playfully, rips a bit of my pastry off and slips it into her mouth, tapping a finger against her lip. I have to force myself not to roll my eyes.   
“Please, ma’am. I was just returning to my *friend*-“ I move past her carefully and start back towards Leto, but he isn’t where I left him. *Where are you?* I ask, but there are so many people here he probably doesn’t hear me. The girl is behind me, but her hand is on my arm, and there are two more girls with her now, each in similarly cut dresses.   
“In trouble, sweetie?” One of the newcomers, dark hair drawn back sharply from her face, murmurs. Her voice is oddly alluring. I’m concerned by how calm I feel with her that close to me. She’s probably a beguiler.   
“I’ve lost my friend. I was just getting something to eat...” There are so many people. So much noise. Too many girls who expect too much from me. I wish I was with Leto.   
“Oh... what a pity... we’ll help you find him, Tiergan.” How does she know my name? She tips her head at me and suddenly I recognize her.  
“Alina.” I say calmly. Suddenly I’m in control. “Alden didn’t want to talk, huh? Too busy dancing with Della?”  
Alina hisses with annoyance but her voice is as hypnotic as always. “Just looking for a distraction... won’t you help me?” She goes to put her hand on my shoulder, and when I try to step back, her friends are behind me.   
“No, Alina. I will not help you.”  
The girls seem surprised. Alina looks scared. “Surely you cannot resist...” she says, but I remove her hand and twist away. ||Damn|| beguilers, never take into account that perhaps I don’t like girls. I grab a drink as I pass and hurry away towards the balcony above the ballroom. I cast out for Leto and find him with some friends in one of the drawing rooms beneath us. Without looking behind me, I hurry down the stairs to him. The door is closed, but they all open for me, so I turn the knob, and sweep in beaming-  
Leto is kissing a girl.  
There’s a fiery redhead in his arms, and he’s kissing her cheek.  
I freeze. He sees me in the door and smiles, as delighted as always to see me.   
Was I wrong?  
How could I have misunderstood?  
I must have.  
His smile fades, seeing the look on my face. “Tierg? Are you ok, sweet?”  
Oh, what that ‘sweet’ does to me. And I was wrong. I take a couple steps back, reeling.  
He doesn’t love me. He promised.  
“Tiergan, speak to me.” He looks scared. He’s reaching out to me. “Tiergan!”  
I’m running.   
I need to escape this.   
He doesn’t love me.

It’s raining. It started several hours ago. My hair is half undone and pasted to my skin. The silk of my coat is staining. I’ve taken my cape off and I’m using it to shield my journal, which I’m writing in, although I can’t see it through my tears. I’m sobbing wholeheartedly. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, as I fled down the golden steps of that glittering labyrinth, a cape streaming from my shoulders that he bought for me, a journal clutched to my chest that he gave me. Everything I’m wearing he gave me. Everything I own he bought. I’ve been living with him. I’ve stayed up all night helping him realize every aspect of his dreams, giving every hour of my life to his quest. Why was I doing it? I told Prentice it was because I believed in it. And I do. But I was there for him. I was devoted, completely. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still in love.   
But it doesn’t matter.  
He doesn’t love me like that.  
I’ve no doubt he is fond of me.   
I’ve seen how he is with Livvy and the others. Even Prentice. He calls them lovely names and nudges them and teases and flatters and all that he did with me. Only I tricked myself. I told myself it was different with me. Sure, he gave me more than the others, but maybe I was just his best friend.   
I was just his friend.   
It hurts like hell.  
I’ve never had my heart broken before. This is a new feeling. I’m crying like I’m trying to wash my eyes out of my head, and my hands are shaking, and I’m drenched to the core from the rain, and I don’t care. I don’t care if I never have friends again. I don’t care if I don’t have all the nice things. I don’t care if I never see anyone again, because I’ll never get him. He’s tearing me to pieces.   
And I love him still.  
I always will.   
He didn’t mean any of it, really.   
But he kissed my hands. Promised me a scandal. Promised me love. His touches were so gentle, so fond.   
He promised.  
I’m going to tell him what he’s done to me.   
I’m going to go in there and tell him that he broke my heart, that he needs to be careful. And I’m going to do it in front of everyone, so they’ll see what’s become of me.   
You wanted a scandal, darling, here you go.

What have I done? What have I done?  
I knew I’d screwed up the second I saw Tiergan’s face, right before he ran away. Of course he ran, poor love. He thought I was kissing Tink. I kissed her cheek to say hello. I tend to do that. He knows I’m affectionate with my friends. This whole thing is still my fault, of course. I heard Tinker was here and I left him. If I had only brought him with me! I should have had him on my arm, should have swept him away with me when Livvy called me. It was so petty of me to leave him. I wasn’t jealous of Alina, I was just being stupid! I know he’s mine, and now I’ve ruined it. There are tears pricking at the edges of my eyes. That’s a thought. I haven’t cried in so long. Now I am, and I deserve to. I deserve to hurt because I hurt him, beautiful, perfect Tiergan who could have loved me.   
Someone’s hands are on my shoulders.  
“Shit, Leto. Was that the boy you told me about?” It’s Tinker. She really is a great friend. I nod weakly, collapsing into myself.   
“Oh no! Oh Leto did I make him think you were straight?” She snorts. “Imagine. Your gay ||ass||.”  
I’m crying too hard to respond.   
“Come now, you’ll ruin your suit.”  
“I don’t care. I only bought it because he said I looked best in light colors.” I am snapping at her, which isn’t fair, but I’m too upset at myself to control my tone.   
She pats my hair.  
Tiergan thinks my hair is beautiful. He likes to twirl the ends of it in his fingers while we’re working.  
I braided his hair today. It glistened like it always did, and he let me admire it for as long as I wanted. Tiergan glowed so brightly.   
Tiergan is my light. I am the moon, only beautiful in his reflection.   
What will I do?  
“Go get him.” Tink says. “Go get him back.”  
I can’t let him go. He could have loved me.  
And I love him still.

The other guests look at me oddly, but I don’t care. I’m sure I look frightful, tear stained and soaked, clothes torn from running through the woods. I charge up the steps before I can lose my nerve. I deserve this closure. Before I disappear. I don’t know where I’ll go. I can’t stay with Prentice, even, cause he’ll visit too much. I have to get away from it all. Maybe I’ll live with the humans. I know enough about their world. I could lose my mind in all their noise, drown in a million voices that aren’t his until I forget my own name and face. I’ll forget myself before I forget him.   
The sky is dumping a new ocean onto Duskrim. The terrace has a thin layer of rain on it, and the steps are slick. Most of the others have gone inside. There’s a lot of shouting inside. There’s about to be more. If only this house didn’t have so many damn steps.  
The doors slam open.   
The world is upside down again.  
He’s crying. His clothes are stained, his hair is messed up, and he looks like he’s been crying for hours. Since I left.  
I expected remorse, he’s very genuine, but nothing like this.  
It looks like-  
I will not hope.  
I won’t think it.  
Can I have made a mistake?  
The redhead is holding his shoulders, but not as a lover.  
What is going on?  
Leto looks at me, and I look at him. We’re both crying. He speaks first.  
“Tiergan?” His voice is weak and distant. He sounds *miserable.*  
“Hi.”  
“Tiergan-“ He starts.  
“Is she your girlfriend?” I need to get this over with. Before my heart falls to hard to sever.  
“Wha- who- no. No! I don’t have a girlfriend! I don’t like girls! I swear.” He’s laughing, but painfully.  
The redhead nods. “He’s gay, I’m gay, we’re all gay, and we’re all stupid.” She pokes Leto. He nods.  
Is this real?  
“I am stupid. I should have kept you with me. I promised you. Tiergan.” He’s walking over to me. I tell myself to step back, to turn away. I don’t.  
“Tiergan, I am so sorry. This was all for you, and I ruined it. I ruined... whatever we had. I understand if I’ve gone too far, but...”  
“Don’t bother with apologies. They don’t matter. Whatever you’ve done doesn’t matter.” There’s so much hope now. The light has come back. If only he says yes. Please let him say yes.  
“Do you love me?” My voice is so much quieter on the question. Suddenly I’m aware of where we are. Standing, an absolute disastrous mess, in front of every elf of import this land has ever known, asking the host of the most prestigious party around if he is in love with me. Which is totally illegal.   
He takes my hands. I can feel his mind pressing against mine, the cool of his waterfalls washing away the hot tears on my cheeks. He’s standing so close. And I can see into the kingdom that is his mind. I can see the answer. He loves me.  
*I love you.* He transmits, a gentle hand pressing into my cheek. *I love you so much.*  
My life is perfect.  
*I love you too! I love you forever. I love you-* I am lost for words, so I simply soak him in my love.  
*Tiergan, you are the sun.* He says.  
And he kisses me.   
If I am the sun, my darling, you are the moon, and you pull the tides of my mind into you again and again. My waves crash upon your beach. I am part of you now.  
He’s kissing me.  
It feels good.  
And then he pulls away, but he isn’t gone. I can still feel his emotions soaking though me, and I know I’m doing the same to him. I’m crying again, but this time it’s because for the first time in my life, with him, I feel whole.  
He presses his nose to mine. I cling to him.   
“There’s your scandal, sweetness.” He says. And now, through the rain and the tears and the love, we’re laughing together.

The world is so warm. Leto is practically on top of me, cradling me. He sent everyone home. We’ll hear about this tomorrow, he said, but he promised he didn’t care. I certainly don’t. I don’t have a reputation to lose. Leto made sure that his friends were settled in, and oversaw some of the cleanup. As before, his arm was around my waist, but it felt so different from before. He never took that little stream of his mind away, so I can always feel how much he loves me, and he can feel all the love from me. His fingers gripped me so tightly, as if he was afraid I’d run away again. And every second he wasn’t talking to someone was spent kissing my cheeks or my neck, or playing with my hair and whispering to me how beautiful, how precious, how perfect I was. How he’d tear down the world for me. And I echoed all of it back. It’s ridiculous, as if we’ve been so long in waiting that we’re boiling over.  
Now they’re all gone, we’ve changed out of our ruined clothes, ‘Don’t worry, pet,’ he said, ‘we’ll just buy new ones,’ and he laid me down on my couch and kissed me, and he’s been kissing me for hours. My hair is all unbound and he’s petting it. My fingers are in his hair too, smoothing it back tenderly. I think I’m going to burst.   
I’m only stopping to write now because if I don’t write this down I’ll convince myself it isn’t real.   
I really did want to write more than this but-  
It’s very hard-  
To concentrate-  
When you are being kissed like this.  
To hell with this, I’ll write tomorrow.


End file.
